


Anger

by Peanut_Butter_writes



Series: The Stages of Grief [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), is a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanut_Butter_writes/pseuds/Peanut_Butter_writes
Summary: Bucky deals with how he feels after Steve returns the Infinity Stones.Part 2 of a 5 part series where I write my way through the stages of grief over Stucky's lack of ending in Endgame. None of the fics are set in the same universe.





	Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Anger: What would Bucky feel after Steve went back?

Steve had told Bucky what he was planning to do, but Bucky hadn’t accepted it. During his teenage years in the thirties, whenever something had broken and they didn’t have the money to fix it, his father would talk about the theory of self-repair - that if you left something broken out long enough, eventually it would figure itself out. He had thought back to that lesson lately. He had to believe that if he’d hoped enough, maybe Steve would change his mind. 

But it was now, slumped against his bedroom door, he thought that maybe his old man was wrong. Or maybe it was different with humans. Either way, reality had finally caught up with him: Steve had stayed with Peggy. Bucky was never going to see the Steve who was his best friend ever again. 

Steve had lived a whole lifetime without him. He’d fallen in love, gotten married, probably had some kids. Bucky hadn’t been there for any of that. At this point, they were virtually strangers. And the worst part was that Steve was fine with that. 

Once, he had said he’d be with Bucky ‘til the end of the line. Clearly, that had been a lie. How much more of what Steve had said was lies? How disposable was Bucky to him? 

A small voice told him that it wasn’t his place for him to prioritise his friendship with Steve over Steve’s own wishes. And maybe - maybe he’d be able to listen to that voice if he had known that he had at least tried to tell Steve about his feelings. 

He felt the familiar pang of fear that accompanied the thought of those feelings. Long ago he’d realized that that was was they were - that he felt for Steve the way other boys felt for girls. For as long as he’d figured that out, he’d denied them any room to grow, but the more he tried to block out his emotions the more they grew. He’d heard the way others spoke of those people - people like him. He couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if he had given any indication that he felt that way. Outcasted at the very least, arrested at worst. And then who would protect Steve? 

But then Steve had awoken him from Hydra’s mind-control into a totally different world. Suddenly there were millions of people who were open about what he’d hidden all his life. He had a hard time believing it, at first. It felt like a dream or a cruel trick. There was ads on TV, characters in movies, and so much information all over the Internet. Eventually, he’d had to accept it as the glorious truth. 

He could have told Steve, then. It would have been safe for him. He had thought about it a couple times, but had learned that old habits die hard. He couldn’t magically throw years of stuffing any part of him that thought about kissing Steve away at the drop of a hat. Only recently had he started making progress thinking about it in a positive way, but it was slow going. Apparently too slow. And now because of that, Bucky had lost his best friend. Would they have, eventually, in a less harsh world, grown into something more? _No point wondering_, Bucky thought angrily to himself. _You missed your chance_. 

Steve was never going to be a part of his life again, and he only had himself to blame. He could never blame Steve. He deserved a loving wife. He hadn’t known what he meant to Bucky. He hadn’t known how it would ruin him.

The thought made him angrier. He heard a wild yell as he stood up abruptly, charged his nightstand and knocked off what little was on there - an old framed photo of him and Steve, a lamp, a book. Was that him yelling? It felt good. He picked the photograph up from the floor. The glass had a crack in it now, bisecting Bucky’s face. After looking at it for a moment, he yelled again and threw it hard against the ground. This time it shattered into countless tiny pieces. Even the frame hadn’t survived. Next he went to the book and started ripping out the pages. With each one, he let out a cry. After a while he realized he was speaking when he yelled. He didn’t know what he was saying and he didn’t particularly care. The violent acts fueled his rage and offered consolation, so he continued. 

He went to grab more pages to tear out, but there was none left. Shakily, he took a breath and regarded the mess of glass and paper on the floor. After a few moments of heavy, hard breathing, he reached behind him and his hand brushed the bed. 

Bucky collapsed into its soft embrace, and the tears started to roll down his cheeks.


End file.
